


A Life Given

by firewolfsg



Series: A Second Chance at Life AU [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Child Neglect, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Gen, Slavery, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewolfsg/pseuds/firewolfsg
Summary: Thrass reflects on a time long ago, when he gave his little brother his first name.





	A Life Given

_“Eat.”_

_Ras looked from the fist sized lump of bread in his hand and back up to the woman holding a tiny blue body to her breast. The babe, of just over a year old, was held in a position of nursing, but he knew it was a sham; the woman hadn’t honestly nursed his little brother beyond the first month of his birth when the slavers actually fed them fairly well for that tiny period. The milk had long dried up._

_“Well? Eat. If you don’t want it, there won’t be more.”_

_The six year old boy looked away from her and tore into the bread. He was starving. This would be the first time she’d shared some of her meal with him in two days. And it might be another day or two before she offered again. His little brother in contrast had at most a mouthful in the last week._

_It came to priorities. He remembered the word she had used that first time he’d noticed that she would feed them both but not his little brother. The slavers did not care to feed them enough to make them strong. They had to take care of themselves first before they looked after the weak. And perhaps—it was a better fate if his brother hadn’t been born in the first place._

_She wouldn’t even give him a name._

_Mercifully, they had plentiful clean water to drink and were in no danger of dehydration. But a baby needed food, even more so than an adult. Ras couldn’t understand why they couldn’t save a small fraction of their meals for his little brother. As a baby, he didn’t need much anyway._

_Ras slowed his speed of eating to pay attention to how much he still had in his hand while he watched the woman from the corner of his eye. He had to be careful if he wanted to try and save a bit of bread for his brother. When she made the decision not to feed him, she didn’t approve if he defied her to save something from his meal for him._

_Sometimes, Ras wished his brother would make a fuss about the neglect. Perhaps if he’d just cry from hunger, the slavers might—no… No, there was no truth in that hope. The slavers had no interest in children. Any troublesome slaves were just killed and removed._

_Slaves were only important for hard labour or their pleasure. Young as he was, Ras was more than aware of the woman’s activities when the night hours came and she’d be removed from their cell. Then there was also the use that the prettier children were taken for as well. They had better food, but the thought turned his stomach. Ras studiously hid his features behind dirt and grime. They were given plentiful water for a reason. The woman always used a good amount of it when she was returned to her cell in the morning._

_“Are you done?”_

_Ras nodded as he carefully palmed the bit of bread he had saved under his threadbare tunic. Inclining her head in satisfaction, she shoved the baby towards him, letting Ras quickly take his little brother from her._

_Much to his surprise, the babe was awake and staring up at him. Held in his arms, Ras could feel his poor stomach growling with hunger, but his little brother didn’t fuss. He just turned his head into Ras’ shoulder as he grabbed a bit of Ras’ lanky hair to chew on it. Ras said nothing and let his brother suck and chew on his greasy hair. With nothing offered to sate his hunger, it was preferable to him sucking on his own fist or thumb._

_Ras gritted his teeth, holding his tiny brother tight in his arms as he felt the grip on his hair lighten with the babe falling asleep. He gave into sleep so easily and so often now. In the past, Ras would frequently while away many an hour drawing in the dirt with his little brother, or playing with baubles of machinery parts when they could get their hands on some. But this interest had waned of late._

_The guard was already at the cell door drawing the woman’s attention from them. “Keep it quiet as usual, Ras.”_

_“It, woman? Haven’t you given the little one a name yet?”_

_“No.” She strode past him with a dignity that was almost laughable._

_The guard snorted at her back as they watched her walk down the corridor towards the group of other women gathering near the exit. Ras kept very still and lowered his head to let his greasy, dirty long hair hide his face._

_“Poor thing, life has given him a raw deal, hasn’t it?”_

_Ras said nothing to that, not daring to look up. Any sign of spirit was usually met with a hard boot._

_Then, three things were dropped in his lap startling him. Ras stared at the objects in stunned silence. A small packet of milk, a crusty bread bun larger than what had been offered to him by the woman, and a—a sausage. Meat!_

_Ras looked up at the guard in bewilderment. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this a cruel joke? Would the man now take these treasures away from him?_

_“You are our master’s property too, child.” The guard shrugged._

_Ras nodded as he carefully cradled his brother in one arm and jostled him awake while he picked up the milk packet. It shouldn’t have surprised him that their guards finally noticed the woman’s neglect, and of course their master would rather have live slaves._

_“Make sure you and your brother finish that quickly. I will remove the trash before your mother returns.”_

_“Thank you.” Ras gave the guard the proper appreciation expected of him._

_“We will bring you food each day.” The guard assured him awkwardly. “Maybe not as much as today… we have stores to properly ration. But she won’t receive your share anymore.”_

_Ras bit his lower lip to stifle his anger; this new knowledge of the woman’s cruelty and selfishness… He was determined to think of it no further and concentrate on carefully helping his brother to drink the milk without spilling any of the precious liquid._

_“She gave him no name. But how about you?”_

_Ras looked up at the guard in surprise. He hadn’t thought of that._

_“Do you have a name for him?”_

_Ras’ mind went blank. How do you give a name? If it was—? Wait, it *was* up to him. The woman didn’t care. A name… a proper name for his little brother… but what? He would want it to be similar to his own name…_

_It came to him suddenly with the memory of the guard’s first words to them. ‘life has given him a raw deal, hasn’t it?’_

_“Raw.”_

_It was the guard’s turn to look surprised as he clearly made the connection between his words to them and the choice. “Can’t fault you for it being appropriate.”_

_Ras nodded to him before he turned his attention back to his little brother. The babe was already weakly pushing away the milk. “Ras, eat.”_

_“Are you sure you can’t take a little more, Raw?” He asked softly, trying out the name. “We have plenty now.”_

_The tiny boy shook his head. “Sick. Too much.” From famine to feast… Even at this young age, he somehow knew he would make himself sick to even attempt to eat too quickly; as subjective as ‘too much’ would be._

_“Raw…”_

_His little brother frowned at him. Until understanding lit his eyes. “Name?”_

_“Yes, my brother. Raw.” Ras spoke softly to him, hardly noticing that the guard had closed the cell and moved away as if to give them some privacy. “Do—do you like it?”_

_“Raw… appo—appitaet—approate?”_

_“Appropriate.” It stabbed at Ras’ heart to acknowledge that his brother would recognise the word and equate it to his situation._

_“Appropriate.” Raw repeated with a smile before yawning in his brother’s face. “Tired.”_

_Ras tucked his brother’s face against his neck, feeling a tiny hand grab at his hair to bring it to his mouth to suck again. A bit of food… but was this too late? Was it too late for his brother to take this sustenance and be able to bounce back._

_Ras looked at the packet of milk in his hand. His brother had barely taken a quarter of it, and he doubted he could take much more so soon after having been starved for so long. Still, he carefully set the packet aside and started on the sausage himself. He forced himself to eat it all, knowing that it would be useless to offer meat to Raw now. When he finished eating, he would try to get Raw to eat some bread and drink a little bit more milk before he finished the rest of it. Maybe over the next few days, his stomach would be in better condition to have more._

_But they had to be careful. They didn’t want the woman to know._

* * *

_If she suspected, the only indication was that she no longer offered Ras any of the meal served to their cell. Ras didn’t challenge that. The various guards came after she’d left to give them their food for the day anyway._

_However, although Ras could feel himself grow stronger for the meagre meals he could now partake in, it was still touch and go with Raw. The babe still couldn’t eat very much. Maybe a tiny bit more each day, but it was to Ras’ growing fear that this bit of mercy from the guards had come far too late._

_Fortunately for the brothers, the slavers luck finally gave out and the ship was boarded by navy men from the Chiss Expansionary Defence Force. They let Ras stay in the same bed with his brother at the medical centre. The woman didn’t bother to check on them before she left to be reunited with her family, and Ras frankly didn’t care to ever see her again._

* * *

The sound of boots on tile brought Thrass out of his memories back to where he sat on a stone bench, beside a tablet embedded in the earth that was headed by a flowering bush. He looked up to see Admiral Ar’alani standing a respectful distance away and beckoned her to approach.

Thrass remembered then that though he had invited her to attend his brother’s funeral, he hadn’t allowed any, apart from members of the eighth family, to see the gravestone. As expected, her eyes had flickered with a bit of surprise to see the far too short name carved on the ornately decorated piece.

“It has just his first name?”

“The patriarch of the Eighth Ruling Family agreed with me that Mitth'raw'nuruodo is out there in the stars.” Thrass looked down at the three letters that adorned the tablet. “This just marks the prior body of one who rose above the disadvantages of youth in a life cut too short.”

“Ahhh. I supposed it is appropriate.”

Thrass bit his lip at the word. There were far too many things that had been ‘appropriate’ with his little brother.

“I—I never did say ‘thank you’ to you for your timing all those years ago.” Thrass looked up at her as she came to stand by his side. “If—if you had come just a week later. I think now it would have been far too late for my brother.”

“I am saddened that I was not there months earlier.” Ar’alani told him frankly.

“Such is fate.”

“Such is life.” Ar’alani looked at the sky. “He has always striven to make you proud, Mitth’ras’safis. ‘Grand Admiral’…” She smiled wryly. “Given his poor constitution, we of the Admiralty had often wondered if he’d survive long enough to reach a rank of note.”

“He drove you mad with his cleverness and logic.” Thrass grinned as he looked upon the tablet.

“Zozzi’rune’aigho is convinced he’s the cause of all his white hairs.” Ar’alani agreed. “I will share with you now that when I passed on the report from Eli Vanto of Mitth'raw'nuruodo’s success and the rank that he holds in the Navy of that Empire, I could feel a collective shiver from our High command.”

“I would agree, however, Eli Vanto did warn us of the general xenophobia that he faces, plus he still has to weather the politics and the troubles that the local insurgency is—“

“Ever the worrier you are, Mitth’ras’safis.” Ar’alani smirked at him. “Little brother or not. Mitth'raw'nuruodo is a grown man living the life you wished of him.”

“Yes, he is…”

“Come back to the library, Mitth’ras’safis.” Ar’alani placed a hand on his shoulder to give it a gentle pull. “Let the past go and let us return to hear more stories from Eli Vanto.

“Mitth'raw'nuruodo is no more that skinny little Chiss boy with a weak heart and poor constitution. You ensured that. And this life he has has apparently just begun to become very interesting indeed, now that our long game has placed him in an excellent position where he can be of utmost influence.”

“And we must make our own preparations.”

“Yes, we will.” Ar’alani agreed. “You may have judged the Aristocra harshly for the sentence they had placed upon you and yours, Mitth’ras’safis. But you can be assured that the Ascendancy will well remember and be grateful for your sacrifices and pray for his success.”

Thrass could not help but let his gaze be drawn back to the gravestone. He was the elder brother, he would never be able to cease to worry about Thrawn, so far away and alone now that he had sent his aide to join the Chiss.

The Admiralty had ever expressed their confidence in Mitth'raw'nuruodo’s strategic and tactical genius, and truth be told, Thrass also felt the same confidence in his brother’s abilities. Still, he couldn’t help but worry and hope that somewhere out there, Thrawn was not going to be alone. That he had someone competent to watch over him, as he once did so long ago.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written in a long while so am pleasantly surprised with these little stories coming to me so quickly. Hopefully, the writing streak will continue for a while more.


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